


i feel love

by anathemis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Drabble, Fireworks, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Forehead Kisses, Heaven, Holding Hands, Love, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), No Smut, Short One Shot, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23129683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anathemis/pseuds/anathemis
Summary: What do Sam and Dean decide to do on their infrequent days-off from hunting? Relive old memories, apparently.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	i feel love

Steam was pouring from the vents of the bathroom, Sam noted, while pulling his door shut gently behind himself. At 10am, late morning - for the Winchester's brothers, at any rate - in the Bunker meant Dean was holed away in one of the high-pressure shower cubicles, probably singing some Led Zeppelin song while the water was on the highest possible temperature - scalding, in this case.

Shaking his head fondly, Sam took off in the direction of the kitchen, content to leave Dean to it. Not having a hunt that day meant he could lounge around in his pyjamas - and that's exactly what he decided to do. He wore a soft grey cotton tee, worn from many years of use and stretched to be hanging off his unusually frame just slightly, and blue plaid bottoms, in a similar state. He ran both of his hands through his hair, taming it in his usual way before jumping down the steps into Dean's second favourite room of the bunker (losing only to his mancave he discovered not long after moving in, and beating his bedroom by mere millimetres) with an unusual pep in his step.

Although Sam loved the job, loved saving people and doing the right thing, the thing that was *expected* of them, days off like this were good for the heart, soul and mind... or something like that. The aroma of coffee filled the kitchen and he grabs the filled kettle pot from the coffee machine on the table, pouring some into an off-white ceramic mug Dean left out for him. The kettle wasn't full, meaning Dean had been awake long enough for coffee and a shower. Not unusual, even on days that they didn't have a hunt, unless he went out the night before. Sam smiled softly, putting his mug on the table. That means he stayed in last night.

He went about making some cereal (granola only, thank you, none of that sugary crap that Dean buys for himself) and pours just a shade too much milk in the bowl, but who was here to tell him otherwise? Dean wasn't going to complain; he never complained about much, anymore.

Halfway through his bowl, he heard the shower shut off and not moments later, Dean entered the kitchen, wearing just boxers with a towel wrapped around his neck. His skin was pink and still steaming and he dripped water all over the floor.

"Dean!" Sam pointed to the floor when his brother turned to him, but he merely shrugged and grabbed another mug, filling it with the last of the coffee and sitting across from Sam, sipping it slowly. Sam slowly shook his head but turned back to his cereal in the end, knowing Dean would dry the water off the floor at some point. He always did, in the end. He was good like that. The silence that remained for the next few minutes was comfortable.

"So, Sammy, whatcha up to today? Reading more books? Going out for a run?"

Sam, speaking before his brain caught up to him, said, "actually, I was thinking that maybe we could... spend some time together today." When Dean didn't reply, he rushed on to finish. "We can do whatever you wanna do though man, we don't have to stay in the bunker or anything, we can go out or find a hunt or whatever-"

"Sam! Slow down, man! Breathe!" He laughed afterwards, a real smile on his face. When was the last time Sam had seen that grin on his brother? "Of course we can do something together. Gimme 20 minutes to get something together, I'll meet you in the library. Get dressed too, little brother."

With that said, he stood up, gulped the rest of his coffee down and ruffled Sam's hair on his way out.

"Hey!" Sam shouted after him, smoothing his hair down, but also breathing a sigh of relief. At least Dean had agreed and didn't outright say no to his idea, as unusual as it was. 'Days off' usually went like this; barely seeing each other, hiding away in their rooms or the garage (for Dean) and the library (for Sam) and then they jumped straight back into hunting the next day, recharging their batteries in their own way.

Shrugging, Sam dropped his bowl into the sink and walked back to his bedroom, pulling clothes out of his dresser to wear. So much for the pyjama day, he thought. At least Dean had agreed to do something with him, instead of wasting the day away in their rooms. What was he planning, anyway?

While pulling out flannel after flannel from his wardrobe, Sam spotted a forgotten item of clothing at the end. It was a dark grey hoodie that he'd kept for reasons unknown to himself, made of soft cotton with no discernible pattern on it. He'd brought it to the bunker with them on a whim, remembering how younger-him used to wear them frequently and consequently had seemingly forgotten it existed for a good few years. Curiosity arose in him and before he knew what he was doing, he pulled it off the hanger and started putting it on.

To his utter surprise, it still fit! He chuckled to himself and looked into the small mirror above the sink. The sleeves went just past his wrists so he tugged them up slightly to fit his hands, smoothing down the material on his chest. It was... soft, and reminded him of better and simpler times. He finished putting his clothes on and unplugged his phone from the charger, slipping it into the pouch of his hoodie.

Content, he brushed his teeth using the sink and ran his hands through his hair again and left for the library. He sat himself down at the closest table and, with 10 minutes to kill, he pulled his phone out, almost reaching for his email app before diverting to his games - it was a day off, he reminded himself, determined to not allow work to get in his way for today.

Soon enough, Dean arrived a duffle bag slung over one shoulder, wearing his usual flannel and jeans attire.

"Sammy! You ready?"

"Yep," he said back, tucking his chair back under the table and joining his brother, who for some reason, had stopped what he was doing and was looking at Sam in surprise and confusion. "Uhh, what?" Looking down, Sam laughed when he realised what Dean was staring at. "Found it in my wardrobe and it's comfy, so I'm gonna wear it."

A few seconds passed before Dean slowly nodded, patted Sam's shoulder with a soft smile and walked up the stair to the bunker door.

Sam, pleasantly surprised for a second time that day, decided to not rock the boat and followed his brother out of the door and into their trusty Impala.

-

5 hours later, the blacktop baking in the winter sun overhead, Sam and Dean sat in Baby in comfortable quietness, a slow song on the radio. It was humming gently, just loud enough for Sam to make out the words. He tugged on the sleeves of the hoodie, letting his hair drop in front of his face.

Wearing the hoodie made him feel nostalgic; he looked back on the last 13 or so years he'd been hunting with his brother, befriending Castiel, Jack and even Crowley, losing Kevin and Charlie, gaining Mary and Rowena, and even dying every now and then. It had been... an experience, to say the least. Even through all that, Sam and Dean had stuck together, with the odd year or so apart. They'd never been closer than they are right now and it made Sam think back to when he and Dean went to Heaven to hide from Joshua with the help of Ash - there's another three names they can add to the list of people they've lost.

Ash said that two people that share a Heaven are soulmates. Sam and Dean shared a Heaven. Are they soulmates? I mean, that would explain how they always return to each other - 'two sides of a coin,' Sam recalled the phrase, smiling softly. Maybe they *were* soulmates. That wouldn't be so bad, would it? Although what Dean thinks might be different.

"Sammy? Sammy?! Are you in there?"

Sam was shocked back to the real world by a hand on his arm and Dean's amused voice in his ear.

"Yes, I'm here," Sam replied, satirical and accompanied by a roll of his eyes and his usual bitchface.

"Well, good, we're here. C'mon."

Sam finally looked up, sweeping a hand through his hair again. Where the hell were they? When had it gone dark, too? He must've been lost in his head, again.

"Uhhh, Dean? Where the hell are we?" He looked at his brother to see him grinning widely, reaching in the backseat for the duffle bag.

"You're telling me you don't remember this place?"

Remember it? How was Sam supposed to remember a bunch of nondescript trees surrounding the small clearing they were situated in? Wait, they'd been here before?

"Uhh, yeah, I guess so..."

"You were 13 years old. It was Fourth of July and we set off fireworks here," Dean replied, suddenly quiet.

Sam's brows furrowed and we looked down, the gears in his mind turning to find the memory that Dean was talking about. "I mean, I think I can remember..." All he saw was flashes of sitting on the Impala hood, watching the red and blue fireworks light up the sky overhead. Deleting some of his Hell memories probably affected some of his childhood one's too. Angel grace certainly wasn't perfect.

Dean laughed and slapped him on his shoulder, good-naturedly. "Well, it was about 20 years ago now."

Sam laughed too, opening his door and clambering out. He closed it behind him and looked around, the scent of petrichor filling his nose. It wasn't raining but the air was moist and the late-night moon glistened off the dew-decorated grass in the clearing. He grinned, knowing what they were doing here, immediately knowing what was in the bag. Of course, Dean would bring him somewhere like this. Somewhere that meant something to them. Somewhere beautiful.

Dean's door slammed shut too and he hefted the duffle bag over his shoulder, taking off in a seemingly random direction.

Sam, as per the usual, didn't question anything and took off after him, always content to follow his brother, even to the ends of the world. That had happened a few times too, and yet they were still here.

A few minutes of companionable silence later, they reached the end of the clearing, to a drier patch of ground. Dean stopped walking, hung the duffle on a low hanging branch and unzipped it, reaching in and grabbing boxes upon boxes of fireworks.

Sam reached his hands in too, pulling out firework after firework of varying colours and sizes and types. He handed them off to Dean, watching as he set them up, sticking them into the ground. He dropped the rest nearby and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a lighter.

"You ready?" He said, his eyes filled with excitement.

Sam breathed deeply, in a similar state of joy and nodded.

Dean dropped the lighter into the pile of fireworks, grabbed Sam by the hand and ran towards the Impala, instinctively ducking when he heard a bang behind him. Sam ran too, clinging to Dean's hand, laughing when they reached the car, almost slipping in the wet grass a few times.

When they reached the trunk, Sam pulled himself up to sit on it, looking towards the fireworks. Dean copied him and sat next to Sam, looking upwards to the sky.

In just a few seconds, the sky was alight with red, blue and green, white smoke billowing through the air. The fireworks kept going and going and going, seemingly neverending. Sam grinned, giggling slightly, ecstatic. This was amazing!

A few minutes later, the fireworks had died down slightly, leaving a huge cloud of smoke behind. The odd bang still went off, followed by a bright light that lit the clearing up, but it was silent again.

Sam, still feeling like he was on cloud nine from adrenaline, looked at his brother, who was looking back at him.

"Thank you," he said.

Dean reached for his hand and gripped it tightly in his own, looking into Sam's eyes.

He turned away, the moment seeming too intense, too much, too filled with something and yet empty of another.

"This was my Heaven, you know?" He squeezed Sam's hand tighter for a beat, before releasing it, holding it loosely.

Sam whipped his head around to look at Dean. "Wait, really? You never told me that."

"Well, after I found you, there was that whole thing with Joshua and then even more happened and I didn't really get the chance to."

"Dean, that was 8 years ago!"

"I know, I know, I just... forgot."

Sam sighed, looking at Dean, incredulous. He eventually shook his head and turned away, now too busy revelling in the fact that his hand was still tucked away in Dean's, resting between them on the hood of the Impala. It was a perfect fit, somehow. He was instantly taken back to his internal conflict on the drive here. In his mind, he was deciding whether on not to ask Dean about the whole soulmate thing... how would he react? It probably wouldn't be all that good. He didn't want to ruin a perfect day either, but he was really curious... mind made up, he turned to Dean again, the question slipping out before he could rethink.

"Dean, do you remember Ash telling us that people that shared a Heaven were soulmates?"

Dean laughed quietly, breathless and nearly humourless. "Of course I remember, Sam. How could I forget that my own brother was my soulmate?"

Sam froze, suddenly having the urge to laugh and yet also scream.

"You knew?"

This time, it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "Of course I did Sammy, I was there too, remember? We're soulmates - surely that isn't surprising to you."

"...Well, no, I guess it isn't. I didn't think you'd remember though, or notice or anything like that."

"Well, I did, now shut up, okay? We don't gotta talk about it or anything." Sam laughed at Dean's words, prepared to tease him mercilessly until he looked at his brother, *really* looked at him and saw the true happiness in his eyes, on his face, on his whole demeanour. He didn't want to ruin it.

After some time had passed, the actual amount unknown to both of them, Dean stood from where he was half sat-half leaning on the car, untangling his hand from Sam's and brushed his pants down. Sam followed him - to the end of the world, he thought - and walked around to his side of the car. Or, he would've done, had his hoodie sleeve not been caught by a hand - Dean's hand.

He turned around, Dean's name on his lips, but before he could speak, Dean's other hand went over the back of his neck, pulling him down to his height.

He planted a kiss on Sam's forehead, before pulling away. He grabbed Sam's hand again and squeezed it, too many emotions running through either of them to name them all, and climbed into his side of the car. Sam giggled again, regained himself and got into his side. He smiled at his brother for the 100th time of the day and his brother smiled back.

He turned the radio on, a gentle song crooning from the radio yet again, lulling them into a sense of peace and security. Dean turned the car around on the tarmac again, pulling away, climbing in speed. Sam watched the trees fly past in his passenger window, heart suddenly filled with more love than he could cope with.

After a few moments, he placed his hand on the seat in between them, waiting. Not a few seconds later, Dean's hand slipped into his again, entwining their fingers together. Sam's heart soared, with happiness and love, unbridled joy in his whole body, even with the recent events and continuous sadness of their lives.

No one and nothing could take this away from them - not even Chuck.

This was theirs. Their love. Their happiness, and it was beautiful, raw and genuine.

**Author's Note:**

> please feel free to give any feedback - this is just some idea i had, it isn't going anywhere afterward though :)
> 
> title from: 'I Feel Love' by Sam Smith, which i was listening to while i wrote this garbage.


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